


See Spot Run

by Chunky_Squirrel



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Brandt is a puppy, Hunt likes puppies, M/M, Pre Hunt/Brandt, What this is I don't know, ghotocolkink prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chunky_Squirrel/pseuds/Chunky_Squirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan Hunt thought William Brandt was like an adorable puppy. The movie happens and Ethan Hunt thinks William Brandt could be something more, but if nothing else, he'd still be an adorable puppy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the ghotocolkink prompt: "It's really obvious that at the beginning of the movie Ethan thinks Brandt is the cutest thing to ever follow him home, the way he reacts to Brandt attempting to 'think' through the shooting Russians or the way he gets distracted enough to almost hit a herd of camels in the car in Dubai. I'd love to see Ethan's 'what a cute analyst puppy' reaction transforming into something more."

A puppy. A little clumsy puppy sat across from him, staring. It started out more as a stray thought out of annoyance, but as the night wore on, Ethan thought it was a pretty accurate description of one, William Brandt. He had been surprised when he found the secretary brought an analyst, let alone the chief analyst, with him. Fortunately for Ethan, Brandt was good at his job; able to identify a man from a sketch on his hand without consulting his computer. Were it not for the situation and the secretary being killed, he would have liked to see how Brandt would have reacted to Ethan “just happening” to escape. If just mentioning it made him twitch in his seat, and then having his attempted objection steamrolled by the secretary, Ethan bet it would be hilarious to assault him, albeit gently, of course. While that probably didn’t speak too highly of what he found amusing, Ethan’s curiosity was piqued. Brandt was there for a reason, and Ethan wanted to know why. 

Of course, before he could pick Brandt’s mind about his position, he needed to get them out of the water, away from the understandably upset Kremlin, and into the safe house. It had been trickier than he would have liked, but he had dealt with worse, and really, military types who just had their country and pride insulted, and blown up, were predictable. It wasn’t the riskiest hunch he had ever had, but it had been a hunch, so really, he wasn’t lying to Brandt. He was just glossing over the details that lead him to his very educated hunch. The details weren’t that important, in his opinion, but poor, confused, and probably-heading-into-shock-at-some-point Brandt couldn’t let it go as he trailed behind him like a lost puppy. Ethan supposed it was the fact that he was an analyst, and he wasn’t going to hold that against him, however, he still couldn’t help but be amused that Brandt couldn’t understand how somebody could act without thinking. If he stayed, Ethan was certain he would be visiting this topic again. 

Now, if either of them wanted to stay and finish the mission, they needed to get on the train first. Yes, the car was a safe house, and yes, it needed to be secure, but sometimes it was a little overboard. Retinal scanning on a moving train was really difficult to do, and he would have appreciated it if Brandt could have told him that would be necessary before they were chasing down a train. They would have to work on his timing. It sort of sucked. And in the IMF’s line of work, timing was critical, especially for a field agent.

And though Brandt was not a field agent, Ethan could see the makings of one; that is, if he could get over the uncomfortable, self-conscious air he carried with him. Granted, having a pair of guns pointed in his face after having many guns in his face earlier may not have been the smoothest introduction into the world of IMF, but he would have to get used to it sooner or later. 

The others were apparently just as confused as he was as to why the chief analyst for the Secretary of Defense was present, but they didn’t question Ethan, for which he was grateful. The day and night had been far too long, and he still needed to read the files for their next, and maybe, even final mission. As he set everything up, he kept a peripheral eye on Brandt who stripped out of his tie, shirt, and jacket, and pulled on a grey sweater. Carter and Benji watched him warily, the former being unimpressed with Brandt’s stilted attempt to be unobtrusive.

Sliding to the floor in the far corner while the ranting of a mad man echoed in the small space, Brandt looked every bit the dejected puppy. He wasn’t really paying attention to the briefing, and Ethan guess he probably didn’t need to. As chief analyst, Brandt probably compiled the file himself. Ethan mentally sighed. It was imperative they take Cobol down, he didn’t doubt that Brandt knew it as well, but he needed field operatives he could trust to complete the mission, and that generally put analysts low on his list of viable field agents. However, he had limited options at the moment. 

Just like he expected, Carter and Benji agreed without hesitation. Carter wanted revenge, so she would be motivated to do what needed to be done, and Benji was, well, Benji, and despite being new to the field, he was reliable and knew how Ethan worked. The only wild card was Brandt. He could stay or he could go, Ethan wasn’t unfair enough to not offer a way out. 

In the end, he didn’t know if he was excited or disappointed that Brandt was staying. Puppies weren’t easy to take care of, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

It turned out Brandt was a fairly self-sufficient puppy. He efficiently packed a bag with all the essentials, keeping to the periphery of their impromptu IMF task force. At first, Ethan could tell he was nervous, and while he was nervous about something, it wasn’t because he was an analyst playing at field agent. There was an air of tension around Brandt, and Ethan couldn’t figure out why, or more importantly, why it was directed at him. Sure, he seemed leery of Benji’s enthusiasm about running a con with masks, and he didn’t appear to fully trust Carter after she showed her subdued rage at Moreau. But he got along with them well enough. He was good at smiling and nodding at Benji’s technobabble, and he wisely kept out of Carter’s way, offering information when asked for it. All in all, he was meshing as well as could be expected in the situation.

It was a long trip, but they managed to get there with relative ease. Even cut off from all of their usual resources, everything fell into place. Benji joked that it was like the secretary had a back up plan for all of this; the safe house on the cargo train that happened to be the line that conveniently traveled to the United Arab Emirate with lots of cleaned, high-tech gear. Brandt smiled weakly and looked everywhere except Benji. Ethan made a mental note to not put Brandt in a position requiring him to lie.

Horrible poker face aside, he was impressed that Brandt managed o keep his mouth shut while they were planning their con to trick Moreau out of the nuclear launch codes. Like any plan, it had its risks, maybe a few more than usual plans, and it made Brandt twitch in his seat. He was clearly trying to be respectful, but Ethan could practically see the gears grinding away in his head. Their plan had to be close to breaking his analyst mind. There were too many ifs, and just about everything was left to chance. The only concrete part of the plan was that there wasn’t anything concrete about it, and they would all have to adjust as the situation called for it. In other words, it was an analyst’s nightmare.

However, Brandt never brought any of that up. He just questioned the hell out of every aspect of the plan. If it had been anybody else, Ethan would have found a way to keep them away from their plans, probably locked in a supply closet or something. But Brandt was a bit different. He doubted their plan would work, it was becoming painfully obvious he was a natural skeptic, but he didn’t doubt the people. His questions were aimed at poking very nice holes in the plan so they could be addressed. If Ethan was honest with himself, and usually he was, given how often he was required to be dishonest, the only reason he felt confident they could pull this off was because Brandt seemed as satisfied with the plan as he was physically and mentally capable of.

That didn’t mean he was done with the questions, though he did wait for a few hours. The questions resumed, once again, as they drove to the Burj Khalifa. At this point, Ethan knew Brandt was on board with their plan, but that didn’t mean he liked it. He went through the entire plan, going over every step of it as a question while somebody answered with a how.

Carter and Benji went along with it, in good humor, everybody looking for a way to calm their minds before the mission. They were trained to do this, and they would not fail. Of course, Brandt probably had all the numbers crunched out about how likely this was all going to end in nuclear war, but he thankfully kept his analysis to himself and let himself be used as a means for a laugh. And when Benji called Brandt the helper, Ethan became distracted at how Brandt couldn’t decide if he was offended or amused. It made for an overall adorable effect, and before Ethan could examine why he was constantly using ‘adorable’ to describe a full grown man, Jane was yelling about camels.

Quick reflexes, little traffic, and slow camels made the situation easy to deal with, though he heard both Brandt and Benji curse as they were tossed around in the back. Now Brandt was definitely offended, as if Ethan could control when camels showed up on an open road, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the ruffled glare Brandt was shooting him in the rear view mirror. Mission failure due to camel collision would be the most embarrassing failure in the history of the IMF, and also the funniest.

He could hear Brandt mumbling something about camels, fatal accidents, and statistics. He would have to ask him what the statistics were for camel-related accidents. It wouldn’t surprise him if it was fairly high, because really, those camels came out of nowhere.

The rest of the ride was quiet and uneventful; no more threats of camel hit-and-runs. They were fast approaching the hotel and there wasn’t much time left. It was now or never.


	3. Chapter 3

It really would have been too much to ask for at least one thing to go right. Ethan would have preferred to show Brandt how great their work was and convince him to apply for field agent status. But that was a bit of a moot point since Ethan was fairly certain he was going to die, and Brandt kept making that abundantly clear. Later, they would have to talk about what constitutes as cheering somebody on, and why meticulously keeping track of time and stating the glaring obvious did not constitute cheering him on. However, Ethan had slightly more important worries, such as not dying as he took a leap of faith, and promptly slamming into the window above. Ethan idly though about how great Brandt’s absurdly quick reflexes were while he dangled upside down, over a mile above ground. 

Brandt’s surprisingly firm grip held fast as he helped Ethan pull himself back into the room. He didn’t have the breath to thank Brandt as his pulse continued to pound in his ears, though he did manage to spare a quick, disbelieving glare at Benji as he huffed and puffed about changing the room numbers. His team was really something else. 

As much as he would have liked to stay on the floor, the world’s fate was hanging in the balance, so he figured he better get moving. Ethan pushed himself off the floor, and trudged over to Benji to look over his shoulder. The screen showed Wistrom entering the hotel a bit earlier than expected, but they would deal with that. What was going to be a problem was the man walking beside Wistrom. Nothing in all their intel mentioned another player. 

Ethan grabbed the laptop, demanding to know who this mystery person was. Brandt appeared flustered, but complied.

He really was like a personal facial recognition program, and it took barely two seconds for him to recognize the man, and then to start panicking. And Ethan was going to have to brush up on his own reflexes because Brandt was really too fast for his own good, and the good of the mission. 

Sure, handing nuclear launch codes to a man hell bent on nuclear war wasn’t the best plan on any sane person’s list, but they didn’t have the time or luxury to be sane. And really, Brandt was doing a fairly good job at not being sane for having the sanest reaction. Ethan wouldn’t have guessed he’d have to talk a person from a ledge, or rather talk a person down from dropping something off a ledge, but life had a way of throwing the unexpected at him. He hoped he kept his voice calm and soothing as he convinced Brandt his idea was the best solution, all while injecting enough urgency to appeal to Brandt current fixation on their lack of time.

It worked. Brandt was obviously torn between his instincts and knowing Ethan was right. The intense look of concentration on his face made Ethan believe his mind was whipping through every possible scenario and its outcome, analyzing and discarding everything until he came to the inevitable conclusion. He frowned in what was clearly frustration, and Ethan knew the plan was back on. That was until the mask making machine decided to break. There was going to be a talk about all the faulty equipment IMF was apparently giving out later. 

He shot a quick glance at Brandt who, thankfully, wasn’t about to start panicking again, but he did look mightily unimpressed.

The world seemed determined to prevent any of their plans from running smoothly. However, they didn’t need the mission to be smooth; they needed it to succeed, and if that meant playing along with the underlying hope that Moreau and Wistrom never met before, then so be it. 

Ethan checked Brandt over, expecting to offer some words of encouragement, only to be met with stony determination and tightly controlled nerves. There was something about the way he held himself that set off a little alarm in Ethan’s head. His puppy was hiding something. 

Whatever secret Brandt was hiding, Ethan was going to have to put off questioning for later. For now, he had to trust that it wasn’t going to get in the way of the mission. 

He watched Brandt carefully rub his eye with the contact in it, and then swatted his hand when Brandt kept rubbing his eye. Never mind a secret; it was a contact that was going to do them in. Brandt assured him Ethan he wouldn’t mess with it while they were dealing with Moreau. That was all well and good, but Ethan wasn’t going to hold his breath. Hope for the best and expect the worst because it was going to happen; a motto Ethan now believed as absolute truth. 

And he was not disappointed. Moreau caught sight of the contact’s distinct pattern and all hell broke loose. Ethan reacted immediately. He needed to be quick if he wanted to make sure Brandt came out of this alive. Just as he was prepared to take down the guard closet to Brandt, he hear a pained shot that was distinctly not Brandt’s. Later, he would be surprised, but right now, all he cared about was Brandt’s safety and that he could take care of himself. There were more pained grunts and soon, the room was clear. Brandt had a gun in hand, prepared to give chase. Ethan spared him an arched brow. The little puppy had sharp teeth.


	4. Chapter 4

Many people saw Ethan at a wild card; a maverick whose favorite plan was no plan, who thrived off all the little surprises that made spy work like his so interesting. In reality, Ethan generally hated surprises. It meant he wasn’t in control, and he really hated feeling like that. Too many times he had suffered surprises that resulted in betrayals and separation. Generally, and not so generally, Ethan didn’t care for either of them. 

Wistrom, or Hendricks rather, getting away with the nuclear launch codes wasn’t all that surprising given what they had to work with. Even Jane killing Moreau wasn’t anything new, even though he knew she tried to keep her alive. The only part he was surprised at was Brandt’s little display of superior fighting skill. Last he checked, analysts couldn’t strip a firearm while it was still being held by the enemy, and then proceed to snap said enemies’ joints until they were lying useless on the floor. Brandt wasn’t who he said he was, and Ethan wasn’t prepared to take any chances. 

He ignored the way his team was arguing and accusing each other, instead, marching up to Brandt and demanding an answer for his actions. If he wouldn’t have seen what he did, he would have believed Brandt when he denied knowing anything. As it was, Ethan needed to know, and as much as he never wanted to draw a gun on a friend again, eh wanted Brandt to know he was serious. Brandt didn’t disappoint and reacted instinctually. Ethan immediately found his gun aimed at his head. He challenged Brandt to open up, come clean and answer; willing to share whatever he could in return, even tell him what happened to Julia if it meant he could actually know who Brandt was, and he would stop looking at Ethan with what he now knew was guilt. But Brandt remained steadfast in his silence. 

Ethan bit back his disappointment when Brandt handed the gun back and walked away from him. This wasn’t over, but he had neither the time nor resources to dig deeper. For now, he was going to trust Brandt wouldn’t keep anything from them if it would put their mission in jeopardy. Out of all of them, he was probably the most aware of what failure meant. That didn’t mean he was going to be happy about it. When, not if, they finished the mission, he had every intention of learning who Brandt was, whether or not he answered Ethan’s questions. 

Pushing it aside though, Ethan had to follow upon his lead with Bogden, hoping that his team could pull themselves together and be the amazing team he knew they could easily be.

He huffed a sigh as he marched out of the room, trying to calm his thoughts. If luck would actually be on his side this time, Bogden would have come through with his contact, and Ethan would have a strategic piece of the puzzle in place. They may not have government support, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t manipulate one into it. 

Bogden proved to be a valuable asset. His contact turned out to be extremely helpful. There was also the added bonus of getting an early Christmas of all the supplies he could want, courtesy of his new connections. At last, something was going according to plan. Now all he needed was for his team to answer the call. 

When they finally showed up at the airport, Ethan could already tell they worked something out, came to some understanding. Ethan felt the tension constricting his chest slowly loosen. They were still a team, and he had no doubt they would succeed. Benji and Jane shared a small, determined smile, sparing Brandt a fleeting glance with some emotion too brief for Ethan to name. Instead, he turned his focus on Brandt who looked stressed, guilty, and resolute all at once. Having taken a step back from his previous interrogation, Ethan realized he wasn’t upset with Brandt having a secret, but rather that Brandt felt like he couldn’t tell Ethan what it was even though he clearly wanted, and maybe even needed to share. But that was to be examined at a later date. Right now, he needed Brandt’s attention on the here and now. To that extent, Ethan offered him a smile that said everything was fine between them. It was worth it when Brandt visibly relaxed and walked onto the plane with a confidence Ethan wanted to see more often.

After making sure everything was loaded, Ethan told the pilot to begin takeoff. The others were already strapped in, their relaxed postures belying the mess of nerves thrumming between them. Ethan nonchalantly dropped in the seat next to Brandt, dutifully ignoring the sudden tension stiffening Brandt’s shoulders. His first instinct was to reach out and try to get him to relax, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Judging from what he knew, Brandt needed something to do with his mind. So the minute the plane leveled out, Ethan began laying out the plan. This was their last chance.

The plan was fairly basic, timing being the trickiest factor to work with. Ethan gave each of them something to prepare for, not allowing for any idling. Brandt eagerly began working with Benji on a way to infiltrate the mainframe while Jane sought Ethan out, a frown marring her features.

They had both experienced loss, and she admitted to knowing about Croatia. He felt his breath hitch a fraction, his suspicions about Brandt suddenly becoming clearer. All the pieces were clicking into place. 

He told Jane they couldn’t change the past. They weren’t getting their loved ones back. She nodded her head at the answer, far from being over Hanaway’s death, but quietly accepted the situation as it was, and Ethan knew she would be okay. Now, he only wished he could convince Brandt of this. 

Speaking of, Ethan heard Brandt incredulously question Benji’s method of getting into the mainframe. Jane bit her lip to keep from laughing, and Ethan could feel his own smile as he watched them. Honestly, Ethan didn’t blame Brandt for being skeptical of the technology that was going to be the only thing between him and getting shish kebobbed by a giant fan. Fascinating as Benji’s tech was, it had a strong probability of malfunctioning at some point. But despite Brandt’s dubious consent to use said technology, he was resigned to his fate. Then, he learned about the heat. It seemed no matter how many times he repeated his part of the plan, Benji still didn’t grasp why there was so much concern. 

Jane finally laughed. She quickly covered her mouth, but the damage was done. Ethan didn’t bother to hide his smile as both Brandt and Benji shot them unamused glares. The effect was ruined though when the corners of their mouths kept twitching upward.

This was their last reprieve before they had to save the world from annihilation or die trying. With every part of the plan a matter of life and death, the only thing they could do was laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn’t the smoothest mission he had ever been on, and it wasn’t one of his less painful ones. However, it was one of the best ones, if not the best mission only because the odds of their success were astronomically low. Brandt had felt the need to share the dismal statistic once everything was finished. The number was oddly comforting. His team beat the odds in a spectacular manner. Ethan didn’t doubt that they would have been less successful had they not been the team they were. For all the disparate personalities and skills, having no support outside of each other, they worked together with an enviable amount of finesse. Ethan had seen, and even been a part of teams that had members who knew each other for extended periods of time and still didn’t work together with the same level of competence. That was why Ethan never settled with a permanent team, that is, until now. Having been through hell with people he head known only for a few days, Ethan wouldn’t have anybody else for his team.

With the mess of bureaucracy trying to reestablish itself with the death of the secretary, there was plenty of time for Ethan to spend his recovery time doing a little research. Soon as he was out of the hospital and allowed into the personnel files, he went to work finding everything he could about William Brandt. 

Starting from the beginning, he learned how Brandt had always been a bit too smart for his own good and had been pulled into intelligence work right out of college. Then, when a team had regained an analyst, Brandt had proven to be more than capable at holding his own, even after the mission went to hell because their identities had been leaked. With no formal training, Brandt had not only survived the week in hostile territory by himself, but also had managed to get the information from their inside source. That had put him on the Secretary’s radar, and before long, he had started field training. It had taken longer than usual; he still had his analyst duties, but he had eventually received his field agent status with the highest marks. From there, Brandt had split his time between analysis and missions for the next several years. 

Ethan paused in his reading a moment to be impressed. Brandt’s multitasking abilities were admirable and he was even more certain he belonged on the team. So far, there was no reason he could see for Brandt to hide any ability beyond his analyst skills, and even less a reason for Brandt to look at Ethan like he was going to attack any minute. Brandt didn’t react that way with anybody else. For this reason, he didn’t know what he did to Brandt. It wasn’t like Ethan went around kicking puppies. However, it was clear someone or something had kicked his analyst puppy, and Brandt hadn’t recovered from it. 

Remembering his conversation with Jane, Ethan swallowed his hesitation as he continued to read. Ethan skimmed over the missions, none of them meriting more than a cursory read, until he saw the word, “Croatia.” That was the mission where he lost and saved Julia. He recalled the nights filled with promises with her, making the Secretary swear to never reveal the truth of what would happen, and trusting the Secretary to assign an honest agent with enough skill to realistically play the part. Ethan had been willing to do anything so long as those parameters were met. And the Secretary stayed true to his word.

While Ethan had enjoyed the last few days left with his wife, he was aware of the team of agents shadowing them, if only because he knew it was part of the plan. Otherwise, the security detail was damn good staying out of sight, and still staying close enough for Ethan to feel their eyes on them. At the time, he had felt a twinge of guilt for what he w going to put the security detail through, but Julia came first. Besides, he had planned it perfectly to the point where there would have been nothing the detail could possibly do, thus taking any blame from falling on their heads. 

When the Serbian threats had cropped up, Ethan had left Julia in the hotel room and went on a run. Playing the part perfectly, two agents had been left with Julia while two had followed Ethan. Nobody had mentioned the threats to him, of which he had been glad there was one less detail to worry about, so it had been easy to pretend everything was normal. It had also been just as easy to feel grief and anger when Julia was gone upon his return. He had spared the security detail no attention, his focus solely on starting his mission and leaving Julia behind. Once he had been debriefed, by the Secretary no less, Ethan had found the group of Serbian drug traders the US government wanted eliminated, and killed them all. It had still been easy to pretend that those men had wronged him; had removed Julia from his life. 

Now that he had the time to look back, Ethan found himself wondering about the security detail, if only because he had grown attached to the head of the detail. As easy as security details tended to be, it was inevitable that somebody would eventually end up dead. It was never good, and it never felt okay, but it was a fact of life, and a person would move on. Attachments were generally frowned upon, so those agents that were proficient at keeping personal feelings aside were common choices for those jobs. Brandt fit the description perfectly; he never broke protocol even when he received the threats. The success of his mission had depended on the security detail to keep to their orders. It never crossed Ethan’s mind how the perceived failure would affect the detail. He assumed they would move on to their next mission. He certainly didn’t predict it would cause a brilliant agent to question himself and withdraw from the field. 

Ethan frowned as he flipped through Brandt’s psyche evaluation. While he was a perfectly well adjusted individual, there were still several footnotes pointing towards an eventual inferiority complex. It made him driven to excel at whatever he tried his hand at, even his own psych evaluation. Ethan felt a guilty sort of amusement when he read how Brandt understood himself well enough to know that his mental state was best served away from the field; his reasoning mirroring the psychologist’s independent assessment perfectly. Upon resuming his duties as an analyst, and without the distraction of field duty, he quickly climbed the ranks until he was the chief analyst to the Secretary. He did good work, and Ethan wondered how many of his missions had revolved around intelligence provided by Brandt.

But as impressive as he was as an analyst, Ethan knew Brandt was meant to work in the field. He saw it in the way he had carried himself from beginning to end, how he handled the FUBAR that was the Burj Khalifa, the fact that he didn’t trust the tech, but trusted his fellow agents; trusted Ethan when he had jumped, and most noticeably, how well he hid all of it from Ethan. Brandt was a rare type of agent; one Ethan didn’t want to see fade away in the background because of a crushing guilt he didn’t deserve to carry. 

He closed the file. By next month the IMF would be fully operational, and that’s when he would make sure Brandt was on his team.

The evening pier was a peaceful bustle of activity, the news droning about the mysterious chunk of satellite that landed in San Francisco Bay and bar patrons becoming tipsy as the night progressed. Ethan enjoyed the atmosphere as he caught up with Luther, and more importantly, shared his plans about Brandt. He told Ethan to do whatever the hell he wanted to do since he’d do it anyways regardless of what he was told, so stop asking, grow a pair, and propose or whatever it was he was trying to do. Ethan always did appreciate Luther’s approach to his personal and not so personal life. He simply wanted to let Luther know before the rest of the IMF caught on and started the rumor mill. It was the polite thing to do. Not that Luther cared all that much for politeness, given he was flipping Ethan the bird after meeting the others. 

He beat a hasty retreat, tossing Ethan one last encouraging look before blending in with the crowds. The others found him at the table, the sense of camaraderie still hanging thick between them, adding unnecessary confidence to his plan to make them a permanent team. Jane smiled when she answered Ethan’s unspoken question, Benji excitedly mused about future missions with his comforting, joking self-awareness, and Brandt remained silent, but smiled with an ease Ethan saw for the first time. He offered them their next mission, and their place on the team.

Jane and Benji accepted the mission with no hesitation. They shared a silent conversation before quietly excusing themselves, making no mistake that they knew Ethan and Brandt needed to talk. Of course, Brandt didn’t want to talk. He sat awkwardly in his seat a moment, then stood up and began to walk away without picking up his phone.

Ethan didn’t know if he would be able to get Brandt to stay long enough to explain. As was his method, he played on a hunch. It paid off. He said Brandt’s name, conveying in no uncertain terms was Brandt going to leave without an explanation. Every possible scenario probably played out in Brandt’s head, and he undoubtedly came to the only acceptable course of action. There was no more reason to hide. 

It felt surreal, hearing about Croatia from an outsider’s point of view; the certainty at which Brandt described the events. While most of his attention was on the incoming ferries, he kept Brandt within view, and were it not for his own certainty of what he would see, Ethan would have felt despair and grief all over again. Guilt held Brandt back, chaining him to the past. He cared about what happened; he had wanted nothing more than to protect Julia from any harm. For that, Ethan could never thank him enough. But he was a man of action, not words. With his gaze still focused ahead of him, Ethan pushed Brandt into describing what he actually saw in the aftermath. Confusion slowly morphed into disbelief as Brandt processed what Ethan was not saying, his attention suddenly diverted to the ferry that just pulled into dock. 

There was an exhalation of disbelief beside him, and Ethan felt a warmth settle comfortably in his gut when Julia stepped off the ferry. She laughed at something her companion said, smile bright and eyes full of life. Ethan heard Brandt drop into a chair and let out a soft maniacal laugh belonging o somebody who could finally breathe after years spent drowning.

He explained how he needed to keep Julia safe, and the elaborate plan designed for that very purpose. Explaining the details was unnecessary; Brandt most likely figuring it out on his own faster than Ethan could explain, but he needed to hear it from him. Brandt needed to hear the story from the man he thought he had wronged. Ethan was more than willing to correct any misconceptions Brandt had about that. Julia was his wife, his love, and it was his duty to protect her. It wasn’t Brandt’s responsibility; it hadn’t been even as the security detail, but he had made it his responsibility anyways. That was all Ethan needed to know about Brandt to be willing to share his greatest, most precious secret with him. 

Brandt nodded his head a few times, coming to some resolution in his mind, and left the table with phone in hand. They still had to work more out between them, Ethan knowing that one night of brief talking was not going to fix all the mental baggage Brandt had been dragging behind him, but now they shared a connection and had a place to start making things right.

Ethan watched Julia make her way into the coffee shop with a fond smile, and felt at peace when she turned around and waved. Love and acceptance framed her smile, and Ethan knew he wasn’t going to be alone anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

The Syndicate turned out to be a giant pain in the ass. Their influence was pervasive on a global level, and they would, undoubtedly, be around for a while. Ethan mulled over the current mission status while sipping a cup of coffee and keeping watch. The target sat a short distance away, chatting amicably with Brandt, who looked absolutely enraptured with what she was saying. And yes, he was probably listening to the extent that he would be able to regurgitate everything she said, but he held himself just a bit too awkwardly to be genuinely interested, or comfortable with the target’s outgoing personality that kept invading his personal space. He kept making abortive movements to draw away when she kept scooting closer to his side. Snickering buzzed through Ethan’s earpiece, forcing him to hide his grin behind his cup. 

Brandt finally got to seduce the rich guy; or somewhat upper middle class woman with a very important schedule belonging to a very important man, as it was. Everybody was very amused at his expense. From the stilted pick up line outside the office to the twitching when she looped their arms together and practically dragged him to the coffee shop, Brandt was proving to be proficient at the act of being awkwardly adorable. It was perfect that their target rescued puppies in her free time, and had a soft spot for hopeless cases.

That wasn’t to say Brandt was bad at it. They did go through with this kind of training, but everybody had a weak subject, and the subtle, social understanding of the interaction between two interested individuals was apparently Brandt’s. He was most likely trying to analyze his way through the conversation, which explained why it sometimes became awkward, but he did posses enough natural charm to keep their target’s interest. He was even able to manipulate the conversation to her work and confirm that she kept the schedule of all her superiors on her smart phone that she took everywhere with her. That was when Jane appeared at their table and played the clumsy waitress perfectly, accidentally spilling a glass o ice tea on the target’s pretty white blouse. Everybody started apologizing, napkins got passed around, and during the confusion of Jane trying to dab at her shirt, Brandt slid her smart phone off her belt and into hi pocket. The target politely shook off Jane’s profuse help and excused herself to the bathroom, all the whil oblivious to her missing phone.

When she was a good distance away, Brand pulled out her phone and took it apart exactly how Benji instructed him, snapping on the tiny chip that would let them see everything that passed through her phone, all the while Jane blocked the view from any prying eyes as she cleaned up the mess. By the time she came back, Brandt had placed her phone on the chair and feigned concerned surprise when she noticed she had dropped her precious phone. Everything went perfectly, and all that was left was to make their escape. Unfortunately, their target wasn’t going to make that easy. With his apparent inability to be an intentionally mean person, he was going to need an extraction, because he clearly wasn’t able to get out of seeing her collection of Russian stacking dolls she keeps in her bedroom, to which Benji unnecessarily clarified she was talking about sex. Brandt spluttered into his drink, sending a death glare to the nondescript van across the street. Ethan shook his head and stood up from his table. He mumbled for Brandt to follow his lead, and Brandt visibly tensed, still getting used to the concept of winging it and playing out a hunch.

It didn’t take much for Ethan to smile at Brandt as he approached the table. The target turned in her seat to watch Ethan greet Brandt. They both flushed in embarrassment when he leaned forward and greeted Brandt with a kiss. Cat calls and wolf whistles from Benji carried over the earwigs. The target immediately began apologizing in a flurry of words, laughing awkwardly, and Brandt was quick to apologize and it was all very cute. If she hadn’t been a target, and Ethan wasn’t a bit of a possessive bastard, he’d admit they would make a cute couple. Be that as it may, Brandt was unavailable, and Ethan was more than happy to drag Brandt from the table.

With a final wave, Brandt walked away with Ethan, still slightly flushed. Ethan smirked as he walked to the crosswalk with Brandt. He discretely glanced over his shoulder and noticed the target was watching them like they just stepped out of a romance story. Self-consciously adjusting his tie, Brandt grumbled about how people should mind their own damn business and how he was going to teach Benji a lesson about radio silence. He looked so put upon that, Ethan couldn’t resist reaching up and ruffling Brandt’s hair. The pain of being slugged in the arm was worth it. He rubbed the sore spot dramatically and questioned the sky as to why this was his reward for saving a fellow agent, especially since he already offered up a, in his most humble opinion, perfectly executed and enjoyable kiss. Brandt rolled his eyes.

The traffic light was about to change, the crosswalk sign numbers counting down, and right as the light clicked to green, Brandt leaned into his side and pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheek. 

Ethan found himself rooted to the spot, watching Brandt march across the street, determinedly not looking back. He saw Benji had rolled down the van’s window and given Brandt two thumb up. Brandt immediately responded by charging the van, muttering creative obscenities that made Ethan arch his eyebrow and never think of penguins the same way again. He could also hear Benji apologizing frantically as he rolled up the window, and explained how it was bad form to maim the driver. 

A shoulder lightly bumped his, knocking Ethan back to reality. Jane was passing by his side, a knowing and amused smirk gracing her features. He gave a one shoulder shrug and followed across the street, the sounds of Benji struggling in a headlock causing Ethan to grin, only, it wasn’t until he was betting with Jane on how long it would take for Benji to escape Brandt’s headlock that he realized it. He had never stopped smiling since Brandt kissed his cheek on the street corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and for all the support. I'm glad to hear people enjoyed the story.


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